And the next chapter - TA.

(I would like to thank TA for typing up most of the chapters and for posting them. I know this is not really my best story, but I do hope at least some of you have enjoyed them somewhat. This is the last chapter. I will post the epilogue tomorrow after tidying it up a little. I would appreciate some comments on how to improve on the story if you are kind enough. I know action is not exactly my strong point. Thanks - Nomi)

The OneThat Got Away

By Nomi

CHAPTER TEN

On Family and Brotherhood

A dusty dark blue SUV made its way up Elm Street, and parked on the driveway of the double storey home on 77 Elm Street. Two young men got out of the car, and slowly approached the main door. It was clear that they were both feeling a little awkward and nervous.

"Do you think they'll be expecting us?" Sam asked as he worked to make himself more presentable by dusting off the snow and trying to smooth off those ever permanent creases on his jacket.

"Of course," Dean answered more confidently than he felt. "They would be expecting us to return them their very pricey SUV… we could have just drive away with it, you know."

Sam scowled at his brother. That was not exactly a nice joke. But it seemed to him that Dean was more irritable and less sensitive than normal. Then he looked down and saw the present in his arms.

"Do you think they'll like the present?" he asked his brother again. Not that they knew much about bringing gifts to dinners. Social etiquette was one area which they had literally no experience in beyond what they learned from Hollywood blockbusters.

"They'll have to," Dean answered – he didn't really want to think about what they bought. Hopefully, the Hardys would never open that present. "We might be too uncouth to buy the right sort of gift, but I'm sure they'll be too polite not to like them."

Sam groaned as Dean pressed the doorbell.

"There you are!" Laura greeted cheerfully. "Frank! Joe! They're here! Set the tables! And we're thinking you guys are going to scoot with our car. Joe was already making plans to take over that gorgeous Impala…"

The mother chuckled at the stormy look on Dean's face. For some reason, she loved riling him. She turned her attention to the younger brother, and helped him take off that snow laden jacket. Poor little big boy, Laura thought. Sam looked so starved for affection, and Laura was determined that little Sammy would be getting a good dose of mama's love tonight, and every Christmas Eve from now on if she could help it.

"And what a lovely gift! The two of you are just so sweet!" Laura exclaimed as she plucked the roughly wrapped parcel from Sam's arms, and plopped it under the huge Christmas tree in the living room. "I can't wait to open it tomorrow morning! Now, let me warn you, no peeking at your presents tonight! We'll all open them just after breakfast tomorrow. It's a family tradition…"

"Tomorrow?!" Dean spluttered, but his eyes slid over a beautifully wrapped package under the tree with his name on it. He could see from the corner of his eyes that Sam had his eyes glued to the packaged marked 'Sam Winchester'.

"Yup, you'll be staying over in my room tonight," Frank told Dean with a grin. "And Sam will be bunking over with Joe. And don't worry about clothes, mom's washed all your clothes and had us cleaned all your stuff in the car for you."

"Mom's orders: me, Frank and Dad are to make sure the two of you bunk over at all cost," Joe confirmed with a glint in his eye as he waited for Dean's reaction. "In fact, mom got the keys to your baby, Dean…said I could have it if you didn't want to claim it tomorrow morning."

"But…" Dean tried to explain why they could not stay the night. It would feel too much like home, and it would be too comfortable. Their lives were not meant to be homey or comfortable – they were hunters, for goodness sake!

"You saved my family, and that made you family as far as I am concerned," Fenton added firmly. "And I promised your father I'll take care of you…"

Sam and Dean turned to stare at Mr. Hardy, surprised.

"Yes, your father's ghost appeared to me and told me what to do and where to find you. Come, we'll talk about that over dinner, and then we'll talk about getting those criminal charges against the two of you dismissed. In the meantime, please try to be more discreet in your Supernatural endeavors…"

Laura moved forward and started to hustle them all towards the dining room. "I'm afraid it's a traditional Christmas dinner we're having here with the usual home-cooked tasteless roasts followed by ultra-sweet Christmas puddings…"

"Don't believe that – mom's the best cook in Bayport," Joe chipped in. "And believe in what you smell now, and taste later."

Laura watched with a fond smile at Joe's defence of her cooking, and the eager expressions on both Sam and Dean's faces. Poor boys, when was the last time they had a good home-cooked meal? Then remembering what Dean said about their parents… did they ever had a home-cooked meal?

It wasn't long before there were screams of laughter coming from the dining room as the four brothers started trading heroic stories of how they brought down the bad guys. It seemed that Dean matched Joe when it comes to story-telling with a melodramatic flair. Laura swore he heart almost stopped several times as Joe described several close shaves in great detail. She could see from Fenton's face that even he did not realize how much danger his sons were in at times. But she could also tell that the stars of the night award goes to the Winchesters. It wasn't long before Frank and Joe stopped trying to compete and just listen to the tales of vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, and other urban legends. It wasn't that psychopathic criminals weren't dangerous or interesting, Laura thought loyally. But hey, real-life vampires were just so much more colorful and… had that 'wow' factor.

But the mother also knew that she, her elder son, and Fenton were listening carefully to those tales because of what they learnt about Joe. They now need all the information and knowledge on the supernatural world to protect Joe. So they listened.

All too soon, dinner was over, and they retreated into the living room with their desserts. There, Fenton outlined his intention and plan to see the charges dismissed eventually. He conceded that the process might take several months, and warned the Winchester brothers to keep a low profile, and not get into any more trouble. However, his gut instinct told him that might be an impossible request from the two. It's like telling Joe to stop rushing headlong into trouble – impossible.

Later, they sang Christmas carols and watched a typical Christmas movie together as a family. They laughed and joked and poked fun at each other. Much later, Fenton watched his sons showed the respective Winchester brother to their bedrooms. He could not help but wonder the kind of life those two led, growing up without a mother and with a father who was always out hunting. But he could see clearly what they did not have – it showed clearly on their faces. His thoughts returned to his own sons, and suddenly felt blessed in his choice for a wife.

Fenton suddenly felt this urge to give his wife a real big hug.

"Thanks," he told her fervently as he embraced her from behind. "I've never known how fortunate I am until today…"

Laura laughed softly, leaning back into her husband's arms. "Hey, what came over you, darling?!"

"I am grateful, so very grateful for all the times you insisted that I came home for our sons… all those birthdays and Christmases and New Years…"

---supernatural---

Dean settled himself a little uncomfortably onto the makeshift bed next to Frank's. He would have preferred to bunk over with the younger one – at least they could talk about cars…

"Dean?"

"Hmmm?"

"How can you be certain that your brother is safe from whatever that demon planned?" Frank asked.

Ah, now he knew why he ended up with the elder Hardy. Dean sighed. He hated to disappoint that kid, but he really did not have the answer to that question.

"I don't know, Frank. I can only hope that everything I did is enough to keep him safe…" His mind flipped through some recent memories of Sam and he felt his heart chilled for a moment. The truth was he was much less confident now than before.

"So what did you do? What do I have to do?" Frank persisted. "How can I protect my brother?"

Dean sat up on his bed and took a long look at the determined expression of the youth before him. He suddenly felt a kindred spirit in there. Like him, this one would protect his kid brother at all cost. Unlike him, Frank had neither the experience nor the knowledge. But he got the heart.

"I hope you're good with languages, because first you must learn Latin – ancient Latin," Dean said as he reached into his little backpack for a stack of papers wrapped in a plastic bag. He had known that the Hardys would need information, and had a copy of his father's diary made. He had planned to pass it to Fenton the next day, but guess he might as well give it to Frank.

Frank groaned. Language was hardly his forte – unlike Joe who could converse fluently in multiple tongues, he was the expert in one – English.

"Here, take this," Dean said as he handed over the bag.

"What is it?" Frank asked as he went through the contents of that bag. More than half of those were written in a script that was alien to him.

"My father's notes on what he knew of the Supernatural…"

As Frank flipped through the pages, he started to note that there were some pictures that looked sort of familiar. The symbols on his mom's pendant! Frank quickly opened his drawer and took out the enlarged image of that pendant.

"Here, are these markings familiar to you?" he asked Dean.

Dean took a careful look at the image and finally shook his head. "Was this what your mom was wearing the other day?"

Frank nodded.

"Can I have it? I'll show it to some of the other older and more experienced hunters, they may know something…"

"Sure – take it. I can print another one."

"Thanks, and I'll get back to you on what I found out."

"Thanks."

The two looked at each other for a moment, and then quickly turned away. They might have learnt mutual respect for each other, but it was one of those uncomfortable moments for two males.

"How did you feel when you found out that Sam was one of those special kids chosen to lead an army of demons?" Frank asked. He wanted to know because he was still trying to figure out what he was supposed to be feeling, though his other objective was also to disperse the awkwardness between them.

"How would you feel, knowing that either you save him somehow, or if you fail, you have to kill him?" Dean asked back quietly.

"No, I would never kill him," Frank shot back, his eyes flashing fire.

Dean shook his head and chuckled. He said that too, and still say that. But Frank did not have to know.

"My Dad told me just before he died, that if I can't save Sammy, I had to find a way to kill him… I can't tell you what is the right or wrong thing to do, kiddo. I can only say this: when the time comes and you stand between your brother's life and the lives of millions or billions others, what decision will you take? No, don't answer me. Just think about it…"

There was a long silence. The answer, when it finally came, was simple and straightforward.

"That day will never happen."

Dean heard the grim determination in Frank's voice and saw the glint in his eyes, and hoped that Frank was right.

"Those special kids… do you know why or how Azazel choose them?" Frank asked. It was a logical question, from a detective perspective.

"All we know was that the kids are psychic and that all their mothers died on All Souls Day in the year of their birth. I have no idea how the demon chose them," Dean admitted.

"Can I have all the names of those psychic kids that you know about?" Frank asked excitedly.

"Why?"

"Because if we knew how or why Joe and Sam were chosen… maybe we can remove that mitigating factor somehow, then we might be able to influence the eventual outcome…"

---supernatural---

Sam watched the younger Hardy from his makeshift bed as Joe kept moving around from one end of the room to the other. Can't that boy just keep still for a minute? Sam wondered. He breathed a sigh of relief when Joe finally settled down onto his bed. But that boy continued to fidget about. Why can't he bunk over with the other one instead? Sam moaned silently, at least he could tell that he and Frank would be able to discuss technical computing stuff – from the glimpse he had of the books on the shelves of Frank's room. Instead, he was stuck here in Dean's paradise surrounded by posters and models of classic cars that he knew nothing about.

"Hey Sam!"

Sam quirked an eyebrow at that perpetually moving body and hid his irritation.

"How did it feel to know that… uh… you know… that…"

"That you're destined for evil?" Sam finished up the question for Joe.

"Yeah…"

Sam looked up at the younger boy seated on the bed towering over him and suddenly realized he had no idea being the big brother could be that complicated. After all, Joe was asking about something he had gone through, and that should be something he should be able to talk about. Yet, he found himself stumped for an answer.

"Hey… it's okay if you don't want to talk about it," Joe gushed out in an embarrass tone. "I mean, I understand that this is a private thing…"

Sam smiled a little. He could remember too well those early days when he first knew. "I was angry, then terrified. I wanted to die and I wanted to live. I supposed you might say that I am very confused. But eventually, it was Dean that set me straight. He promised that he would find a way out for me, and I hung on to that promise… I guess that's not too helpful, huh?"

"It is," Joe answered. "And thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Can I ask another personal question?" Joe ventured tentatively.

Sam tilted his head a little to indicate his acquiesce.

"How do you know that you're safe from that … you know… that destiny?"

"I don't," Sam replied in a soft voice. "I can only hope that I am, or that Dean would kill me before I turn evil…"

"Would your big brother be willing to kill you?" Joe asked, a little shocked by that concept.

Then he realized, with humanity at stake, Dean would have no choice… and neither would Frank… oh my god, could he ask that of Frank? More importantly, could he trust Frank to do what must be done if… if…

Joe forcefully shuttered those thoughts away. No, tonight he enjoys his Christmas; time enough to think about that tomorrow, and for the rest of his 'human' life. Then Sam's voice pulled him away from his morose thoughts.

"No… Dean will not kill me. Dean will never kill me. And that's why I have to hang on to my sense of humanity as long as I can…"

Joe listened and nodded – that made sense, to hang on as long as possible and relish every moment of humanity left… then his eyes widened. "What do you mean by 'sense of humanity'?"

A soft laugh floated up towards him.

"We're different from them, Joe. Don't you realize that by now? Demon blood flows in our veins…"

"What do you mean? What are you saying?" Somehow, Sam's tone of voice chilled him.

It was as if the Sam he knew was gone and someone else was there. Suddenly, he felt threatened in his own room.

Then he stopped breathing as another realization hits him with the force of a typhoon, driving all air from his lungs. They were not communication verbally but…

Yes, we are communicating telepathically, Sam said to him in a strange tone.

Joe wanted to move away, to rush over to his brother's room, but he could not. And he could not be certain whether it's his own curiosity, the need to know what Sam meant, or was it something else altogether that held him captive on his bed, listening to Sam, and seeing what he was shown. The fact remained: he stayed.

Remember your first year, the night Azazel visited you…

Sam's voice was soft, seductive. Images flashed through his mind: He was in a small cot, and Frank was sleeping on another bigger cot right next to his. A shadow towered over him. He was scared, but before he could cry, that fear was gone. Then he was sucking on something. It was blood… the demon's…

Joe felt sick to the stomach. Still he stayed where he was.

That was why we are different. That was why we had all those special abilities. The same thing happened to me: Azazel showed me himself how he fed me his blood before killing my mother…

Sam's voice continued to weave its way through his mind, and he could not shut it out, no matter how hard he tried. Frank… Joe thought. He had to tell Frank. He had to warn his brother…

You won't Joe, you won't. Because you won't remember… You won't remember until its time for you to choose, and you will make the same choice as me, because it would be the only way to keep Frank safe…

Some time past, perhaps.

Sam blinked. What just happened? He turned and saw the younger Hardy already asleep in his bed, his covers half scattered on the floor. Sam sighed and reached over for the covers and gently tucked it around the sleeping boy. A tiny smile tugged at his lips. Joe was really sort of like a younger version of Dean sometimes. And strangely, he was starting to like the idea of a younger brother to look after. He sat there and watched the younger Hardy sleep for a long time before falling asleep himself, a gentle smile still plastered on his face.

---supernatural---

It was a white Christmas. The skies were blue, and there was nary a cloud in the sky. It was half past nine, and the Hardys and their two house guests had just finished their late breakfast, and were now seated right in front of the brightly lit Christmas tree. Presents were past around and opened, followed by squeals of delight or laughter, pending whatever gifts they got and from whom.

Sam and Dean each got a brand new cell phone and a jar of home-baked cookies from the Hardys. Everyone should have a jar of homemade cookies at some point in their lives, Laura whispered to them when she saw their expressions. It was her way of telling them their place in her family, they realized. They were touched speechless.

Then they turned bright red as the Hardys opened their gift and stared at the contents in the box within: a first-aid kit, a model toy car, a Latin-English dictionary, and a book on demonology and exorcism.

"I believed the first-aid kit is mine," Laura said as she plucked the white box from Fenton's hands.

Joe took the toy model of the black Chevy Impala and gave a huge, sad, sigh. "And this is clearly for me, a replacement for what I cannot have." But one could see his eyes were twinkling with merriment.

Fenton and Frank looked at each other for a moment before reaching into the box together.

"I'll take the book!" Both said at the same time. Then they stopped and glared at each other. Finally, they turned their irate eyes on Joe and Laura, who were having a good laugh at their expense. Both Sam and Dean looked flushed and were busy fiddling with their new phones.

In the end, the father handed the book over to the son, and took the dictionary. Everyone said their thanks, and that was the end of the present-session.

Later, Joe proudly showed off his handiwork on the car. They had the broken rear window replaced and the dented roof hammered back in shape. Fenton had also provided a small budget that Joe used to upgrade the car engine and redo the car seats. Frank got rid of that clunky old radio and replaced it with a brand new digital play complete with a ten-disc CD-rack. Dean had to admit, if he thought his baby was cool before, it's certainly a real babe now. He whistled happily as he drove the car out of the Hardy's driveway and onto the street – after promising Laura that he would keep in touch and that he and Sam would turn up for next year's Christmas dinner.

"Sam…"

"Yea…"

"You'll join them for next year's dinner, won't you? Promise me you will…" That was as close to pleading that Dean got.

"Don't worry big brother. We'll get you out of that deal, and we'll come back for dinner together come next Christmas…" Sam promised.

---xxxSUPERNATURALxxx---

A/N: The part about feeding blood was in All Hell Breaks Loose 2.